


Oatmeal Jumpers and Midnight Leather

by donotjustlive_fly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greasers, Fluff, Greaserlock, Greasers, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donotjustlive_fly/pseuds/donotjustlive_fly
Summary: From the diner to school hallways, from the front seat of Sherlock's car to Johnny's favorite bookstore. Snapshots.





	1. Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> A little drabble (emphasis on _little_ ) based on the Greaserlock RP I write with my darlings Oliver, Charlie, and Liz. I write Johnny (BabyBluesJohnny), Oliver writes Sherlock (GreaserHolmes), Charlie writes Greg (GreaserLestrade), and Liz writes Mycroft (BookishHolmes). Give us a peek if you're a fan of Greaserlock, because the other three are some of the most incredible writers I've ever had the pleasure of writing with and reading. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (I shuffled this over from Twitlets because I'm going to have more Greaserlock stuff, don't mind me!)

* * *

 

"Holmes! Holmes, _c'mon_ , they don't stick around long, I wanna _see_ -!"

"Cool your jets, Watson, I'm comin'."

Johnny waits at the front door, bouncing on his toes with impatience. He's quickly distracted by the jangling of his keys in the pocket of his letterman sweater, and by the time Sherlock joins him in the foyer he's started hopping in rhythm to the song he's whistling between giggles. The brunette stares at him for a moment, an involuntary smile of amusement struggling to escape, before he shakes his head and grabs the smaller teen around the waist to still him.

"Christ, Johnny, what's gotten into _your_ knickers?" He goes pink, leaning into the embrace automatically, and mock-pouts up at his companion.

"My keys were jinglin'." Sherlock blinks a him for a moment before chuckling, ruffling shaggy blonde hair.

“You’re cute. C’mon, thought you wanted to get outside." Johnny brightens, wiggling out of Sherlock's hold and grabbing his hand to drag him out the front door. He leads them around the corner of the house to the large willow in the side yard, directing the other boy to sit at its base. The blond settles between his boyfriend's legs, back to chest, and misses the soft, fond look that flashes briefly across Sherlock face as skinny arms are tugged around a small, stocky body. The duo has barely gotten comfortable (or as comfortable as you can get sitting amongst the roots of a tree) when tiny, floating lights begins to blink in and out of existence around them. Johnny gasps quietly, going completely still aside from his slight quiver of excitement.

Sherlock, meanwhile, pulls the other further back against him so he can see his expression- and isn't disappointed. The boy's face is soft with wonder, lips still parted around his gasp, his glasses occasionally catching a glint from the lightning bugs with the eyes behind them wide and dazzled. Something warm expands in his chest, and he presses a kiss to Johnny's cheek before tucking his nose into blond hair. Soon, the younger boy will inevitably doze off and he'll have to carry him inside, but for now he just breathes in the quiet as lightning bugs float around them.

* * *

 


	2. Copper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Johnny swallows hard, curling into himself a bit further as the room gives a sickening twirl..."
> 
> Harriet didn't approve of Johnny borrowing her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This popped into my head one day and just- I had no choice but to write it. I'm generally not someone who does angst, and this is fairly mild, but it's definitely still not my normal thing. Short and to the point! Hope you- enjoy?
> 
> Also, this is a bit of a giftfic for my son and dear friend Oli (who has written some _incredible_ Greaserlock I can only aspire to reach the quality of). Thank you for being the Sherlock to my Johnny. I love you and I'm so thankful to see this birthday with you. (Oh, and there's another little fic coming that I didn't finish in time. Whoops!)

* * *

The sharp, copper tang of blood from where he’d bit through his tongue. The throbbing of his cheek (and chest and arms) where he could feel bruises already beginning to form. The sting in his forehead from where the skin over his orbital bone had split under a particularly rough blow. The dull roar in his ears that was probably a result of the final push which had ended with his head colliding hard with the wall. The razor-sharp echo of Harry's initially furious, then mocking voice bouncing around his skull like a twenty ton bowling ball.

Johnny swallows hard, curling into himself a bit further as the room gives a sickening twirl, centered not on himself but on his phone across the room.

His phone, resting innocently in the safe bubble of his bed where Holmes had held him not two nights before and whispered sappy nothings once he thought Johnny had fallen asleep. His phone, which was cheerfully informing him that he had received a text in his boyfriend’s rumbly near-bass voice; the latest of at least a baker’s dozen.

Some distant part of him was fretting that if Sherlock didn’t hear from him soon that the stubborn boy would either call or (more likely) show up outside his window, and the thought of that cool cat seeing him at his lowest made something in his belly go sour. (With embarrassment? With self-loathing? With fear? He wasn’t sure.) But the noisiest part of him was frozen in his semi fetal position, afraid that if he moved even a little that he’d end up splintering into a million pieces from pain and lingering humiliation.

So he ducks his head gingerly, closes his eyes, and lets the soothing timbre fill his ears, merely hoping for the best.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Criticism welcome! Definitely more Greaserlock to come.


End file.
